


A Hundred Days

by stageira, stagie (stageira)



Category: Dean/Castiel - Fandom, SPN
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soul Bond, Whump, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stageira/pseuds/stageira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stageira/pseuds/stagie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It had been a hundred days since Dean had last seen Castiel.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hundred Days

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Here without you" by 3 Doors Down, this whole fic more or less inspired by the damn thing. Love and hugs to [](http://arami.livejournal.com/profile)[**arami**](http://arami.livejournal.com/) for just being there and to [](http://olympia-m.livejournal.com/profile)[**olympia_m**](http://olympia-m.livejournal.com/) for listening to me whinge and offering to do a beta on this, no matter when it was finished! She tried, she really did! Everything else is my mistake. When I finished writing this, I realized that it could have been a much larger story, cause I had more to say on the details. It is a bad idea though for me to mess around that it's already written, but I might have a couple of drabbles coming from this.

Castiel lies on his back staring straight up at the sky. He can't remember how long he's been in that position, staring at the clouds and their shapes passing over him, seeing them change colors as the sun was slowly going down the horizon. Watching the day slowly ending and letting out tiny whimpers of pain, wondering if the life of his vessel was slowly ending as well.

Watching the light slowly going away from him and trying to ignore the pain in his back and his middle. Ignore the fact that he was lying on his back even though it was his worst injury, because he can't find the strength to actually turn his mortal body around.

"Father," Castiel whispers to himself, praying for one last time. He has no voice left and whatever Grace has been retained in his vessel is not enough to make his prayers go all the way to Heaven. Watching the clouds pass by and change colours is the only thing stopping him from screaming in pain with every second that passes. Stopping the the endless prayers that are going through his memory.

The clouds and the thought that Dean Winchester is too far away to hear his screams.

>   
> _Pain. Blood. Wound in his middle. More pain. A spell being worked on him. His wings appearing. Hands tugging at him, ripping the clothes of his vessel. How? How can these black hearted Demons touch him when his wings are present? Why isn't the rest of his angelic presence coming out? Pain. Shock at the feel of a knife's edge. Pain. Blood. Running down his shoulders, staining his back. PAIN! Screams coming out of his mouth, but the pain does not stop. Someone is hacking his wings away with a knife... Falling. Physically falling from a great height. Tumbling through the air, like a sack of clothes being carelessly thrown out of a moving vehicle. Dizzy. Pain. Disoriented. Falling._   
> 

************

Dean knew that it had been exactly a hundred days since the last time Castiel honored them with a visit. He was trying not to think of all that the things that were going on right now and why the angel might be staying away from the Winchester brothers. Or rather this Winchester brother. He did know that while Sam was feeling awed and probably a bit scared, the feeling passed and now he was just nervous and scared every time one of the angels appeared. Which was not to say that he was comparing Castiel with Uriel, not in a million years was Dean doing that. Ever.

"How about we go visit Bobby for a while, Sam?" Dean asked his brother, turning to look at him and seeing Sam once again lost in a very old book.

"What?"

"Bobby. Visit? You know, sleep in a house and eat normal food and maybe get some more books, 'cause honestly we are not carrying enough around?" He loved the slightly unfocused look Sam had in his eyes and how they lit up, when Dean got to the part about the books. "Whatcha reading anyway? You've been lost in that book for days."

Sam closed his book, slowly turning in his seat to face his brother and trying at the same time to stretch his legs. There should be some kind of penalty for making him try to fit his 6,4' frame in a car built 4 decades ago. "It's just something that I got from Bobby after the thing with Anna. Lore about angels and rituals that might affect them."

Dean watched as Sam kept trying to stretch his spine and laughed, "Watch it big boy, one of these days you might go through the roof." He snuck a peek at the gas meter and swore to himself. "What do you say, we stop for some gas and something to eat? It's early yet, but we can make it to Bobby's before nightfall. You can tell me more about the angels then, yeah?"

"Sure, Dean. I wouldn't want to try and explain something complicated to you, while you have an empty stomach." Sam laughed at Dean's expression and ducked his head to avoid the hand coming his way.

Half an hour later both the brothers were half-way through their early lunch of burgers and fries, the Impala's tank was full and everything was looking normal.

Until Dean raised his head, looked at Sam and asked, "Was there something interesting in your books about angels and what makes them tick?"

"Not much, just a few rituals that can delay them," Sam answered around his mouthful of fries. He swallowed and continued, "There are some talismans that when paired with a certain spells can make their existence a bit difficult, but nothing that humans can do is actually capable of killing them. I think that maybe a demon had a hand in writing this book, cause I'm sure that we are not able to pull of most of those things."

Dean watched as Sam wiped his hands and got hold of the book again. "So basically what you're saying is that some demon, probably with the help of a human, some time long ago, wrote that book as a guideline on how to hurt angels?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Sam agreed. "But, it's very difficult to prove any of this, since neither of us is a demon."

"Or at least not yet," Dean teased.

"Idiot," Sam growled.

"Bitch."

Dean threw a last look towards his plate and decided against eating the rest. He suddenly had this feeling of not wanting to eat anything more, just get on the road and drive. "Hey Sam? Don't you think it's weird, that it's been a hundred days since the last time Cas showed his face?"

"Dude, you are counting the days?" Sam was already out of his seat, book and backpack in hand.

Dean just shot him a death glare and walked out of the diner towards the car. He opened the door and was in his seat before Sam even had the chance to actually make it out the door.

"Dean? Dean, tell me that you didn't do anything foolish with thatto that angel." Sam's voice was pleading.

"No, little brother. I didn't do anything to that angel. Now are you getting in the car or am leaving alone?" Dean started the engine and revved it up a bit. He didn't even look at Sam hurrying to get in before he took off.

"I know you are going to tell me to mind my own business, but Dean, I know there is something going on between you and Castiel." Sam was careful not to even look at Dean. Sometimes just not looking at his brother made the answers easier to come out. "Even before Anna, there was something. I never thought that Alistair could do anything to any angel, but the book I'm reading now and what I saw that day, says otherwise." He fiddled with the window handle. "I don't want you to get punished, but I don't want something to happen to Castiel. They might be dicks, but they are angels."

An anguished moan coming from Dean was the fastest way to make the younger Winchester to shut up. He looked at his brother trying to see what was wrong. "Dean?"

Dean was bent over the wheel, still driving, his right hand clasping his left shoulder and moaning as in great pain. He had to pull over, no matter in what kind of condition he was in, he was always able to drive, but the pain made his head swim and not able to see the road ahead of him.

The last thing Sam saw before Dean pulled the car over and stopped at the edge of the road was his brother's right hand covered in blood.

*****************

Bobby Singer just knew that some days were not worth getting out of the bed No matter what other people said, he just felt it in his bones when things were all set to go pear shaped. Well, his bones and the hunter instinct, along with some weird mumbo jumbo that he had seen all over his house and half the county.

It started with the sky getting dark in the middle of the day, a sure way to tell that something was going to Hell one way or the other. Then a great booming noise and the earth shook, as if something was dropped on it from a great height.

Well, there went his quiet day of doing nothing more than reading an ancient text, drink beer and have a well done steak. Jesus, he couldn't wait for the end of the world. One way or the other things were bound to get better. If Lucifer rose he'd be dead and if not, well there might be some respite from this constant hunting and rushing to get ahead in the game.

Bobby grabbed his mobile, already dialling as he was heading to his truck. Better take the truck today, who knew what he would find.

"Pamela!" He almost yelled into the phone, pulling out of the yard as fast as he could. "Need some directions, girl."

He listened for a minute and then hung up made a U-turn and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

If Pamela was right and she almost always was, things had just taken a very ugly turn. Her words echoed in his head again, 'The one who took my sight, just lost something important. You'll find him outside the nearest cemetery. Be prepared;: the brothers are coming.'

So it was no surprise when Bobby reached the cemetery 10 minutes later and saw that earth had been flattened out; all vegetation dead and the huge oak tree that stood at the outer wall of the cemetery was split in two.

There was a human figure lying in the middle of the dead grass circle, arms and legs spread in a cruel imitation of the Vitruvian man, a pool of blood spreading slowly around him. The only thing Bobby could see was that the man was naked and the blood seemed to be coming from his back.

Clearly this would not be the easiest thing he'd done, especially with all the blood. Bobby approached the body slowly, trying not to scare the man; angel, his brain insisted.

************

Bobby didn't know what to do about the blood. Was it a sin to simply wash it away? Should he collect it or something? It had taken him over an hour to get the bleeding angel settled at the back of the truck and then almost another hour to get back to the house, driving slowly and avoiding any potholes in the road, while looking behind him all the time.

The angel had not said a word during all this time and his breathing was shallow and laboured. He didn't look like he was conscious at all and had only whimpered a couple of times when Bobby tried to get him up and on the truck.

"Okay, buddy, let's get you into the house and put some bandages around your back, then I can decide what to do with your blood." Bobby figured that talking to the angel, even if he was unconscious might help him a bit with feeling less disoriented. And wasn't that frightening? That something had wounded an angel so badly.

He carried the wounded body slowly, setting him down on a spare mattress he had put on the floor, covered with a plastic sheet, so that that blood would not go everywhere. Now he could at least let the angel rest on his front and not having to lie on his back.

It was no surprise really that he heard the rumbling noise of the Impala's exhaust the moment that he moved away from the angel to get some water and bandages. Looking out the window he felt his breath catch in his chest and moved towards the door with surprising speed. Sam was driving the car.

*********

It was 15 minutes later, when Bobby sighed, took his cap off and ran a hand through his hair. This was so not going well. It was bad enough to have a horribly wounded angel that looked like someone had cut off his wings with a bad knife and then thrown from a high place. There was now a hunter lying next to him, unconscious and bleeding from his left shoulder.

"What do you think happened here, son?" Bobby turned to Sam, while he kept washing away the blood from the angel's back.

"I... I don't know Bobby. One minute Dean is driving and the next he's just moaning in pain and bleeding from a wound I didn't know he had." Sam was still holding the ancient book about angels and rituals in his hand.

"Any ideas on what to do about the blood?" He kept washing away, using large pieces of cotton to push the holes on the angels back together.

"Burn it?" Sam opened the book and tried to look for a passage he remembered. "Bobby, does he have another wound besides the ones in his back? His side maybe? On the left?"

The older hunter just turned around and looked at him. "Yeah." He slowly drawled out. He went back to his work, grabbing big pieces of gauze and some tape. He carefully covered each wound and then taped the gauze onto the skin. At the least the blood wasn't flowing as freely as before.

"Give me a hand, Sam. We need to turn him on his side so we can see the wound." Bobby slowly started to turn Castiel on his side, while Sam leaned over Dean and helped him stay on his side.

"I can see the wound; it's a small circle, the size of a big coin. It's not bleeding at all." Sam looked at Bobby. "The book I was reading mentions something like this. Hurting an angel, infecting them with a talisman and then make them vulnerable enough to get hurt."

"That's all good and dandy, son. But what I don't get is, why not kill him? Why cut off his wings and not just kill him after the torture." He looked down at the angel and felt heaviness in his heart. No matter what they believed and no matter their behaviour towards people, this being was an Angel of the Lord. Something pure and a warrior for the Light. Seeing him like this made Bobby eager to find something that needed stabbing and burning and a good dose of salt. It also made him feel useless, cause nothing he had come across could help him deal with this and help this being heal.

Sam just kept looking at him and his brother. It was like a light suddenly went off in his head.

"Bobby, do you have anything like tweezers that we can take that talisman out?" He quickly grabbed a pillow placed it under Castiel's neck and upper torso. "And Holy Water. Lots of Holy Water." He grabbed the small stainless pliers the older man handed him and went to work.

"You sure you know what you are doing, Sam?" Bobby's voice was a bit uncertain. "I wouldn't want the angel to die in here if at all possible. Am sure it's bad luck".

"The book, Bobby. The one I was reading while all this happened. It mentions the talisman and the ritual and the fact that demons can hurt an angel physically and he will not be able to heal his human form." Sam was slowly applying pressure on Castiel's side wound, trying to bring the talisman closer to the surface. "But it also mentions, in a roundabout way, what is the only way of healing one. Something that they thought it was impossible cause noone could do it."

He slowly caught the edge of the coin with the pliers and slowly pulled, a moan from Castiel and slight movement made him stop. Sam looked at the angel and then at Bobby. "Could you hold him so he won't move? It's almost out."

Bobby followed his direction and kept Castiel still. "So?" At Sam's bewildered look, Bobby just sighed deeply. "The way to heal him."

"Ah, contact with a piece of his soul or Grace." Sam grabbed the coin and pulled, getting out of the angel along with a long breathy moan. "Although why would someone assume than an angel would have a piece of his soul or Grace out of him is something that I don't want to think about." He held the talisman up, its bloody surface slowly gleaming in the twilight. "I'm pretty sure that it was why they couldn't kill him though. Castiel has given a part of his Grace to another being and that interfered with their killing him."

Sam threw the coin into the fire burning behind him and grabbed a piece of gauze to cover the wound.

He looked up at Bobby and smiled. "I never thought I would say this but I need your help to strip Dean and then bathe them with Holy Water." Sam sat back slowly and pulled at his brother's t-shirt with caution.

It only took them a couple of minutes to get the older Winchester naked and turn him on his side facing Castiel. With help from Bobby, Sam slowly arranged the men so that they were propping each other up, their faces almost touching.

"Well, this will be interesting if Dean wakes up in that pose with us standing over him watching." Bobby remarked with a slight smirk. He grabbed the nearest bottle of Holy Water. "Bathe them?"

"Yeah, but not the way you think. Take the gauges off Castiel's back would you?" Sam was busy positioning Castiel's hand on the handprint on Dean's shoulder. He took a step back, grabbed a bottle of Holy Water for himself, looked at Bobby and said, "Now it's a good time to just dump it on them."

They both opened the bottles and started emptying them over the two naked bodies laying together on the mattress.

The first one to show a reaction was Castiel, by bowing his back and letting a scream out of his mouth.

"You sure this is the thing, kid?" Bobby looked at Sam, feeling a little worried.

"Yes, keep going, Bobby. Make sure to get his wounds well covered, okay?" Sam hadn't stopped pouring the water over Dean, making sure to cover his shoulder well, especially where Castiel's hand was almost welded into Dean.

Bobby had finished emptying the bottle over Castiel, when he felt something like wind picking up. Which was strange by itself, since they were inside and the weather outside the house was a perfect sunset with a few clouds spread around. He shot a glance at Sam.

"It's time for us to go Bobby. We can't be here if what I think is gonna happen, well, happens." The younger Winchester sounded a bit unsure and maybe a tad scared.

"Sure we can leave them like this, Sam?" Bobby was already having difficulty looking at the two men in front him, a blinding light was coming out of the place where Castiel's hand was touching Dean.

One look at the boy convinced him and he followed him out of them house, closing the door softly behind him. "How did you know what was right?"

"The signs where there. Castiel's appearances while we were on the road, Dean unwillingness to talk about anything and how uncomfortable he was every time I mentioned the angel's name." Sam took a deep breath. "Some things just added up. Castiel raised Dean from Hell, he literally grabbed him and pulled him out. I'm guessing that something happened at that moment, something that scarred Dean and left a piece of Castiel behind." He leaned against the wall of the house, still trying to come to terms with the fact that his brother was probably part angel or had the part of an angel inside him. "So when the book said that it was possible, but unlikely, for an angel to be cured when he came in contact with a piece of his Grace, reuniting him with Dean seemed like the only option."

Bobby stayed silent.

An inhuman scream came from the house and a blinding light shot out from any available opening, bathing the yard and its surroundings with a supernatural glow.

They both turned towards the house and slowly approached the door, the minute that the screaming stopped and the light faded away Sam opened the door and tried to look in, only to be taken over by Bobby who threw the door open and just marched in.

All Bobby could see in the room was feathers. Slowly drifting down from the ceiling, spread out all over the floor and wings the colour of white gold covering the two beings on the mattress.

Wings that fluttered and moved and slowly lowered themselves to reveal a healthy looking Dean Winchester kissing the Hell out of one of the Lord's Angels.

The same Dean Winchester who just leaned back, took a deep breath and went back to kissing **his** Angel.

"Oh for God's sake, boys!" Bobby exclaimed. "I know you are happy, but really, we just want to know you are alive."

"We are indeed alive, Robert Singer." The calm voice of the angel replied. "And thankful for your help and compassion. It will not be forgotten." Castiel turned to look at Bobby and the hunter took a careful step back. The angel was still glowing, his eyes shining with the same light he had witnessed only minutes ago.

Sam was just looking at Dean and smiling at his brother. Not really caring about the kissing and the wings; 'angel's wings! In front of Sam Winchester's eyes' his brain supplied. He was just happy that his brother was alive and that the angel was not suffering anymore.

*************

Castiel rose slowly from the mattress, helping Dean to come up with him, his huge wings protecting their modesty, wrapped around both their bodies and keeping them warm. He turned to face Sam and Bobby, bringing Dean with him.

"We will leave you for a while. There's a few issues that we need to resolve between us." The angel smiled at them and stretched the end of one wing, lightly touching first Sam and then Bobby. "I wish to thank you once again for your help and love and thank you for the return of my wings." He wrapped the wing once again around Dean, who just raised his hands, grabbed Castiel's face and proceeded to kiss him like the world was ending at any moment.

A rustle of wind, the sound of wings and they were both gone.

Bobby just looked at Sam for a moment. "Looks like you were right son. They definitely share something and I dare say that they will be sharing more before the night is over".


End file.
